6 Grounds for Murder Read Online Free Page A

Belleville. Perhaps I can have a tray sent to your room?”
    “Thank you. That would be most pleasant.” The dowager wandered out of the door, still making twittering noises at her “birds.”
    “Good Lord,” Ellsworth said, running his fingers through his thick, curly hair. “Is everyone batty around here? Am I the only sane one to inhabit this hotel?”
    Cyril got up abruptly from his chair. “I don’t think I shall stay either,” he said, looking apologetically at Cecily.
    “Frightened you off, did we?” Ellsworth said, with one of his hearty laughs. “Can’t take a juicy murder, heh? Or perhaps you are friends with the uncivilized devils, is that it? Make lots of good sales to them, do you?”
    Cyril paused in front of the sneering opera singer. “I do not deal with the gypsies, no, sir,” he said quietly. “I agree that for the most part they are nothing but thieves and liars. I do believe, however, that a certain measure of decorum should be employed when conversing with ladies. I find your manner quite despicable.”
    He left quickly, as if aghast at his own audacity, nevertheless earning Cecily’s respect. As proprietor of the hotel, she had often been forced to bite her tongue in order to avoid offending a guest, but with regards to Ellsworth Galloway, never had she been quite so tempted to tell someone exactly what she thought of him.
    “Sniveling little plebeian,” Galloway said with a contemptuous toss of his head. “Who does that insignificant lowbrow think he’s talking to? Really, Mrs. Sinclair, you are lowering the class of this establishment by allowing such ill-bred riffraff to invade the Pennyfoot. This hotel always had such an impeccable reputation when your husband was alive.”
    Cecily drew in a sharp breath. “Mr. Galloway, not that it’s any of your business, but I feel compelled to inform you that Mr. Plunkett works for a very prestigious firm in London. I happen to be acquainted with the chairman of the board, and he speaks very highly of Mr. Plunkett. A respected and valuable asset to their sales force, I believe were his very words.”
    “But working class nevertheless. Not at all the type of person I should expect to find at the Pennyfoot Hotel.”
    Throwing caution to the wind, Cecily said quietly, “As far as I am concerned, sir, if someone can afford to pay theprice, he has every right to the product. I will not turn anyone away from this establishment on the basis of class distinction.”
    “Then, madam, I fear your hotel will soon lose its appeal to the more privileged among us. I for one will not associate with such ugly lowlife.”
    “That, sir, is your privilege.”
    “I say, old bean,” the colonel said, obviously upset by this somewhat heated exchange, “don’t take it to heart. I’m sure Galloway didn’t mean any offense.”
    For a moment the singer looked as if he would argue the point, then he cleared his throat. “My apologies, madam. I believe I have lost my appetite.” He strode from the room, and Cecily let her shoulders sag. Really, the man was impossible.
    “I imagine that leaves just you and me for tea, what? What?”
    Cecily glanced at the colonel, who was looking at her as if afraid to catch the backlash of her wrath. She forced a smile, saying, “Colonel, I shall be happy to join you.”
    “Splendid! Then I can tell you about the time I cut off the head of a chicken when I was in India. Blasted thing ran around headless for an hour squawking like a burned cat. I’m damn sure it was looking for its head….”
    It was going to be a very long afternoon, Cecily thought dismally.
    If there was one person who could calm her shattered nerves, Cecily told herself later, it was Baxter. Ever since James had died, leaving her to face the innumerable problems of running the hotel, she had relied on her manager for guidance, support, and sympathy.
    She had received all that she had asked for and so much more. Baxter had become so important in her